Triwizard Bewitched
by son of a peach
Summary: Oneshot, for now. What would happen if Samantha was the principal of the school Harry Potter was the champion of in the Triwizard cup.


Disclaimer: I own the rights to neither Harry Potter nor Bewitched. I make no money off of this.

Triwizard Bewitched

Suddenly, the green flames within the goblet flared once again, spitting out a fourth piece of parchment. Silence fell on the inhabitants of the hall as the singed scrap of parchment floated over to Albus Dumbledore. With an ashen face, the old headmaster read the name on the parchment, "Harry Potter."

Dun dun dun! (dramatic music plays)

Samantha sat in her office in New Salem High School for Gifted Ladies, and was going a little stir crazy. The reason was that she was bored, and considering her history growing up with her mother, not to mention her marriage, she knew that trouble was soon to follow. She would gladly suffer a little boredom if she wasn't waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Ring Ring! There it was, the phone call of doom. She spared a moment to contemplate her fate before answering.

"This is she. Yes, I'll hold." She was treated to a few seconds of nondescript muzak before the line once again connected. "Hello Representative, what can I do for you today. No, I did not enter any students in any tournaments in Europe. No Sir, this is the first I'm hearing of it. Yes, sir, I'll look into it. Yes, I realize it is a great opportunity for international diplomacy. All right, I'll keep you informed. Have a nice day." Samantha looked at the phone after returning the handset to receiver. She could already tell this was going to be a hassle.

Picking up the handset again, she dialed the international magical switchboard. "Hello, I was wondering if you could put me through to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I see. what was that floo address again? Okay, thank you very much. You have a nice day too." Yes, this was definitely going to be a hassle. Honestly, what kind of backwards school didn't have a telephone?

Meanwhile, back at the ranch... er Hogwarts.

"Harry, my lad. Might I speak with you after supper this evening?"

The black haired boy in question turned toward the twinkling eyed old man. "Of course, Headmaster." Harry agreed, curious as to what the old professor wanted with him now. A small degree of trepidation settled in the pit of his stomach, and soon crowded out any desire for food. He gamely picked and pushed at the food on his plate, watching the staff table until Dumbledore stood and left, before following suite. As he made his way to the Headmaster's office, the trepidation turned to dread; just what had gone wrong with his life now? Bad enough he was magically bound to compete in a deadly tournament with students several years his senior.

Soon Harry stood before the stone gargoyle (or as Hermione would point out, Grotesque, as it did not, in fact, spit water). Harry tried to think of names of candy, before, to his surprise, the Statue stepped aside before he could utter a word. Making his way up the stairs, he knocked on the door and entered.

"You wanted to see me, headmaster?" Harry asked tentatively.

Albus looked up from his desk. "Good evening, Mr. Potter. There has been a slight complication with your entry into the Triwizard tournament." The old wizard said mildly.

"Does that mean that I don't have to compete?" Harry asked, trying not to sound too hopeful. A boy could dream of a year without the threat of death, couldn't he?

"No, thankfully, you will still be able to compete." Dumbledore smilingly said, seeming to miss the tenor of Harry's previous statement. "It seems that the school you were entered under has decided to send a delegation to support you. I assured them that it was quite unnecessary, but they said they were under pressure from higher up to use this as an opportunity for diplomacy. I acquiesced on your behalf, after all the triwizard cup is founded upon the principle of fostering cooperation and understanding between schools."

Harry nodded numbly. Almost he didn't ask the million dollar question that was on his mind. "What does that mean for me, sir?"

"It means that as of tomorrow, you will be staying in new quarters as an honorary member of the New Salem High School for Gifted Ladies. I am sure you will be on your best behavior to show the students of Hogwarts in the best light possible." Dumbledore smiled beamingly at Harry.

"Brilliant sir." Harry managed a sickly smile. "I'll try not to let you down."

"Be prepared to meet our guests tomorrow after lunch. I'll be sure to let your professors know that you will not be attending your afternoon classes. Well, have a good night, Mr. Potter." The twinkling eyes regarded him as he nodded and muttered good night, before turning and shuffling out of the office.

The next day.

Harry sat on the front steps of Hogwarts, looking over the front lawn, and down to the Black Lake. The sun was shining, and it was actually a nice day all told, if a little windy. Harry contented himself that sitting on the steps beat sitting in a classroom. Suddenly, the day became more than just a little windy. Out on the lawn, a plume of dust and detritus was kicked up by the strengthening wind, and soon began to spiral ominously. The dust laden winds formed a funnel reaching up to the sky wich, while previously blue and cloudless, suddenly sprouted dark thunderclouds. The funnel widened into what, if Harry had had a greater grounding in meteorology, he would have recognized as a class 4 tornado, and harry clutched the railing of the stairs as the wind whipped his hair into an even more unruly shape.

Then, as suddenly as it appeared, the winds dissipated, dropping a spreading cloud of dust. As this too settled, Harry saw a new building had appeared on the lawn. It had horizontal, clapboard siding, painted a bright red, with white trim at the edges, eaves, doorways and window sills. The roof was peaked at roughly ninety degrees, and shingled in dark, weathered pine. Hanging from a mount by the front door was a bell with a rope pulley. In short, it was the quintessential, classic, little red American school house.

Straightening his robes and his hair as best he could, Harry made his way unsteadily towards the building. Before he had made it halfway, the door to the oddly arriving building swung open and out stepped a Blonde woman who appeared to be in her thirties, dressed in a fashionable skirt and blouse from the nineteen fifties. At least it was in tasteful shades of cream and grey, unlike many wizards and witches he knew.

"Excuse me, young man. I am here with the delegation from New Salem High School. Could you help me find Harry Potter?" The lady addressed him in a kind tone.

Harry shuffled his foot a little, awkwardly. "Um, yeah... er. I mean, that's me, ma'am."

The lady's expression became slightly more serious. "You're Harry Potter, the Triwizard champion representing New Salem Highs School for Gifted Ladies?" She asked, though not unkindly.

"Erm, yeah." Harry said, slightly apologetically.

"And your a boy." The Lady said with a slightly perturbed frown. "Oh dear."

"Um, sorry?" Harry said, irrationally afraid of having offended this woman he had only just met by dint of having the effrontery to be born male.

"Oh no, it's not your fault!" Samantha reassured the frightened looking boy. "It's just that it complicates maters. I think you and I need to talk to Professor Dumbledore, and there is no point in putting it off, so come along."

One meeting with the headmaster later.

"So let me get this straight." Harry said, with a slight edge of panic in his voice. "I need to compete in this tournament, or I will lose my magic. And I can't compete in this tournament because I'm a boy. So that means I'm going to lose my magic." Harry concluded his summation fighting off tears. This was it, He was going back to the Dursley's, never to see his friends again, and never to be able to practice magic again. Well at least they might treat him better now that he would no longer be a 'freak'.

"Don't be silly, dear boy. Your not going to lose your magic. All this means is that you'll have to compete as a girl." Dumbledore assured him.

"Oh, thats a relief, i just... wait, girl? Like dress in drag? I guess it's not like I could avoid getting humiliated anyway." Harry said resignedly.

"Um, not exactly." Samantha said kindly, though internally she winced at the downtrodden look the boy had. "In order for you not to lose your magic, you will need to actually BE a girl. I'm sorry Harry, I wish there was another way, but the schools charter is very clear and unchangeable. Otherwise we would have gone co-ed years ago."

Harry gave out a sort of hysteric half chuckle, before passing out.

A.N.

So yeah. Just an idle thought about what would happen if Samantha from Bewitched was the principal of the school Harry was entered into the Triwizard cup under, and then of course I had to throw gender bending into it, because... I'm not sure exactly. I don't know where this is going. Probably nowhere under my direction, so if you want to give it a shot, feel free, just let me know so I can read what you make of it. Thanks for reading,

SoaP


End file.
